the bar and pulled on the charm smile. It almost never failed. “That’s a good reason.”
She slumped down on a bar stool. “This is not going well.”
“ You think?” he said, setting a dish of pretzels out for her. “Because I’d have to disagree. My night just started looking up.”
Flynn raised her head up from the bar and glared at him.
“Don’t charm me, Tucker.”
“ Can’t help it. Charm is part of a package deal. It comes with the clever and the good-looking.”
“ Oh, stop it. I know your type.” She sneered and moved her fingers around in the air in front of his face, as though conjuring his “type” from thin air. “I wasted most of my precious college years dating your type. I…” She blinked, and her eyes cleared, and she shook her head. “Why am I talking about this? Jameson’s neat, please.”
Well , I guess making friends and gaining her trust is out, Jake thought as he set a rocks glass on the bar and filled it. This is where a plan B would have come in handy.
He slid the glass to her in silence. She took it and looked up at him with guilty eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she grumbled finally. “I’m usually not this cranky. I’m actually, typically, kind of a fun person.”
Jake perked up. Was she starting to confide in him ? That could be good. He leaned forward slightly. “I think you’re scads of fun.”
She gave a mini eye -roll, then sighed. “My family thinks I’m a loser. They sent me here because they don’t think I’ll ever make anything of my life on my own.” She lifted her glass and snorted into it. “The kicker? They’re probably right.”
Jake waffled for a moment, then chose a direction. “If you think so, then they are.”
Her glass froze in midair, and she raised her gaze up to meet his. “Excuse me?”
“ I have four sisters and a mother. I know a little something about familial disapproval. The secret is not to let it get to you. They love you, they’re worried about you, they say hurtful things, but it’s just because they want what’s best for you. But only you know what’s best for you, so go ahead and humor them so you can get through Thanksgiving without bloodshed, but don’t believe any of it.” She stared at him in stark silence. Jake held his breath. He’d either just won her over or completely blown it, and he wouldn’t know until she said something.
But she wasn ’t saying anything. She just held his gaze for a long moment, and then, without any change in facial expression, said, “My father has angina.”
Jake broke into a deliberately confused grin. “Really? Is that possible? For a man to have—”
She huffed. “Not a va gina. An gina. It’s a heart—”
“ A heart thing,” Jake said, playfully swatting at her arm with his bar towel. “I know.”
Finally, she broke i nto a crazy, tremendous, heart-stopping smile, and it felt like all the lights in the room upped their wattage. She lowered her glass, shook her head, and laughed lightly.
Jake grinned. He hadn ’t blown it.
“ So, your dad,” he said. “He’s okay?”
She lifted her head, the smile still playing on her lips. “Yeah. He’s fine. And now, he’s not worried about me anymore, so that should help.”
“ Ah,” Jake said. “Taking one for the team, are you?”
She looked around the bar, assessing her surroundings. “Yeah. Guess you could say that.”
The s mil e was almost gone. Jake wanted to see it again, see if the entire room brightening was just his imagination, but there were things to be accomplished first.
“ I think you did the right thing,” he said. “And let me tell you why.”
“ You sound like that guy from The Music Man ,” she said. “Does your reason start with a capital T, which rhymes with P, which stands for—”
“ The Goodhouse Arms,” Jake jumped in. “Let me tell you why I think you shouldn’t sell this place.”
“ Oh, hell.” Flynn lifted her glass and took a long swallow, but that smile played
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